Platinum
by rhysofvelaris
Summary: Peace is only bought by sacrifice. The War is won, the Dark Lord defeated, and the Wizarding World has returned to the way it used to be. All Hermione Granger wants to do is pick up the pieces of her life and put them back together, but a chance encounter with an injured (supposed) Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, unravels everything she has spent her life fighting for.
1. 01 exordium

The sun's rising rays filtered into the room, illuminating the suspended particles of dust that billowed up into the air with each step she took into the room. Furniture covered with large drop cloths was spread around the room, with an exposed wooden table or chair sitting dusty here and there. The large space looked like it hadn't been used for decades, but the exhausted Hermione Granger could sense the metallic tingle of magical presence in the air. However, it was early in the morning, and she couldn't decide if she was just hallucinating.

_Why did I have to say yes to doing this?_

It was standard for Aurors to make the before dawn Ministry runs every month or so to look for people who had gone missing in the War and Death Eaters that were still on the loose. However, Harry Potter, Head Auror, hero of the Wizarding World, and the Boy Who Lived, had fallen sick with a cold and had needed someone to fill in for him as the patrol head. He would usually ask a lower ranking Auror to fill his spot, but this specific location was the best lead on a Dark wizard the Ministry had received in months. The location had been known to them for months, but there had been no recent activity reported, so there had been no reason to move on it. The tip had come in two days ago, and they could not afford to wait. It was extremely unfortunate that Harry was sick, but he knew exactly who would be most capable to fill his spot. He wanted only the best for the job, and that's why he asked his best friend, Hermione Granger, who had fought bravely at his side for years, to take over the raid.

She had come over to bring him some homemade soup that her mother had used to make whenever she was sick and they mused over the strange tip together. He had then asked if she would take the job, and she accepted, as she would do anything for her best friend.

Hermione hadn't had a great sleep the night before, as she was thinking about the tip and how it had been a while since she had practiced any defensive magic. She was an official at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but she just sat in her office all day; she wasn't a hands-on Dark wizard catcher like an Auror was. However, she finally fell into a restless sleep knowing that she'd be fine, as nothing could possibly be worse than what she, Harry, and Ron had faced in the War.

She'd arrived at the Ministry early that morning, and none of her fellow raid members looked surprised to see her in Harry's stead. In fact, she was something of a celebrity in the Wizarding World, so two of the younger, newer Aurors were looking at her with awe. She gave them a faint smile and after preparing her team, they Portkeyed to their location, an abandoned Muggle warehouse that had once housed weapons in some Muggle war. She split the group up once they had arrived, sending pairs to check around the premises. Once it was cleared, they could head inside, as this was protocol, but Hermione didn't feel the need to straggle and headed inside as the others waited for the perimeter signal.

The warehouse was comprised of an enormous area completely covered with row after row of wooden racks. There were only windows down at the ends, so the low light caused the shadows of the racks to bend eerily.

Hermione shuddered.

_Reminds me of the Department of Ministries._

That doesn't matter, there's nothing here, she rationalized. Leaving the aisles for the others to check, she walked down the main aisle towards the back to see if there were any small rooms or offices. There were a few, and she ducked into one, wand at the ready. Nothing. She did the same with the others and sensed nothing until the last room.

She couldn't be hallucinating. Something was here. She just had to find it. She wanted to find something because the thrill of being on her edge once again after years was a familiar and almost pleasant sensation. She was not afraid, even if somehow Voldemort jumped out from behind the furniture.

Normally, the patrols never found anything, or anyone, but as Hermione walked around the perimeter of the room, casting Disillusionment and Revealing charms, she knew that there was someone here. Quite a strong concealment spell had been cast upon a small section of wall between two windows. A table had conveniently been covered right in front of it. Most wizards wouldn't have been able to detect the magic, but Hermione was powerful, and quite capable. Muttering some more spells, she could see that the dust had been moved right around the concealed spot. Finally, the concealment charm was broken, but the wall still didn't look any different. Hermione had an idea. She pushed the table aside, laid her hand on the wall, and gave it a slight push. Her hand went completely through, but the wall was still there.

_It's like Platform 9¾ at King's Cross Station!_

After a quick, whispered _Lumos_, her now lit wand at the ready, she stepped through the wall. From what she could see, it was a hall that ran parallel to the rooms she had just checked. Walking cautiously along and muffling the sound of her footsteps, she reached the end of the hall only to see a set of stairs. Somehow, the warehouse had a concealed second floor that was not visible or detectable from the outside. This was very powerful magic. As Hermione climbed up the steps, she noticed a dark stain under the banister.

_Blood._

And it was reasonably fresh, too. Now she knew something was definitely off. Once she had reached the landing, she was faced with another dark passageway instead of a whole floor, but this time she could sense many magical protections on it. Disarming the many wards and charms as she went, Hermione reached the end of the muggy, dusty hallway and unlocked the final door.

It was shock that hit her, she would later realize, when she saw Draco Malfoy, wanted Death Eater, unconscious and bleeding on the floor.


	2. 02 salutem

It was the moment that changed everything. His signature platinum blonde hair was streaked with dirt and was as messy and unkempt as the rest of him.

_Malfoy._

His name kept ringing in her head, and it took her two minutes to process that he was really there on the floor in front of her. The putrid stench of decay stained the air, and as the light of Hermione's wand illuminated his body, she could see the deep gouges running across his chest, and to her shock, where his dark mark used to be, was a mass of hacked open and severely infected flesh. The same arm was bent at an unnatural angle.

_Is he dead?_

Hermione ignored the smell and carefully crouched down next to him, pressing two fingers against his feverishly hot neck. There was a pulse, but it was barely there, and she could tell he was on the verge of death. She didn't know whether she should be relieved or not. He was awful, that was utterly clear, but he hadn't been heard of since he had walked over to Voldemort's side the day of the Battle of Hogwarts. His name occasionally popped up in the Daily Prophet, and of course, there was his wanted poster that was hung up on the wall of her Department. He was infamous, as he had tried to kill Dumbledore, but he hadn't really done anything after that. Yes, he had hated the Golden Trio more than anything, and they had hated him the same way in return, but he had actually never done anything to be labeled as a criminal. She knew it was Harry that was intent on catching Malfoy, because he had never forgiven him for the role he played in Dumbledore and also Snape's demise. However, she had seen a different side of Malfoy, and had even defended him during sixth year. Even with all the Mudblood taunts, she knew Malfoy still had some good in him. She had wanted him to redeem himself, and she still remembered the disappointment she felt when he left them for Voldemort's side during the Battle. But the most important thing was that he had saved her life in fourth year at the Quidditch World Cup. A dangerous Dark wizard had been there, along with the Muggle despising Death Eaters, and no matter how snidely he had said it, he had warned them.

_I owe him._

But she also remembered how he stood silently as Bellatrix tortured her under his roof. The war had left scars, and Hermione still woke up sweating and crying from that memory. She wanted to turn him in just for letting her go through that, but then she remembered him lying for Harry. He had good in him. He did.

_I can't turn him in like this. He'll die, or they'll kill him._

She inspected his wounds once again, noticing how unnaturally blackened they were, especially his arm. Dark spells had been used on him, for sure. She couldn't be the one to subject him to the horrors of Azkaban or Harry's wrath. She was right, she owed him enough that she had to heal him. Then, she would see. Not to mention, she was Hermione Granger, and there was a seed of curiosity growing in her mind.

_What had happened to him during the War? After? Where had he been? And most importantly, who did this to him and why?_

…

Hermione was lost in her thoughts and her guilt, but she realized that her presence would soon be missed. She was pretty sure she would regret the decision later, but she left Malfoy exactly where he was and rushed out of his hideout, redoing some of his cloaking and warding charms as she went. Making it to the raid's rendezvous point on time, Hermione prepared herself for what was about to happen next.

_Am I really protecting Draco Malfoy? What kind of person am I?_

One by one, her fellow Aurors slowly trickled back, all shaking their heads negatively when Hermione inquired if they had found anything.

_Remember, you owe him. You can turn him in later._

In fact, it was strange for her to be leading a patrol at all, as she worked in the Department of IDK, but no one could contest that she was unfit for the job as she was, perhaps the strongest, member of the famed Golden Trio that defeated Lord Voldemort and had dealt with some of the most prominent Dark wizards of their time.

_Just heal him. I'm just going to heal him and then turn him in._

"What about you, Granger?" Ernie Macmillan, a former Hufflepuff in Hermione's class, asked.

She could feel their eyes on her as she prepared to lie. Swallowing hard, she also shook her head no.

"Alright, good work everyone, let's head back. Portkey please, Goldstein."

He pulled an old sock out of his pocket and held it out for everyone to tightly hold on to. The gut-wrenching pull and spin of Portkeys meant it was not the most popular way for wizards to travel, as Apparition and Floo were much easier, but the Ministry had Anti-Apparition wards in the Auror offices and there were no fireplaces in the warehouse, so there was not much of a choice. Plus, they were convenient for group travel. It was over in a minute and Hermione opened her eyes to find herself in the Auror office foyer. Everyone dispersed, heading to their respective stations. They were all yawning and disgruntled, evidently tired of making raids with no results.

_Malfoy is a lucky prat, if anyone else had found him…_

Heading down the hall to her office, Hermione planned on stopping by to collect some documents and finishing the rest of the day's work at home in her flat after she had gone back to take care of Malfoy. To her great disparagement, Harry appeared right around the corner.

"Hermione! Hey! I was looking for you."

"Oh hello Harry, I didn't expect you to be here, you should be resting!"

"Ginny got me some Pepperup potion from St. Mungo's, I totally forgot that was a thing, but I'm fine now. Thank you for covering that patrol for me, by the way. What did you find?"

Harry was obviously better, as he didn't have steam coming out of his ears, and was showing great excitement about the raid.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Harry. We didn't really find anything though."

Hermione gave Harry a sheepish shrug. Harry looked at her with surprise as they stepped into her office.

"Really? I was almost certain there would be at least _something."_

Hermione knew that if she told him the truth, he'd storm over there and Malfoy would be dead for sure. It wasn't something her conscience would allow and he didn't deserve it, so she continued lying to her best friend for their sworn enemy.

"Trust me, there was nothing," Hermione said firmly as she picked up whatever she needed and headed towards the elevator. Harry sighed.

"That's so disappointing, that was such a good lead! I just wish we were making more progress with taking down all of Voldemort's rogue followers," he said fervently. The elevator had just arrived.

"_You're _the Auror, Harry. I'm sure you'll get there eventually. Now, I really have to go, but let me know if you need help with a clue or something!"

"Thanks 'Mione, I'll see you around!" He grinned and gave her a quick hug, and she smiled as she said goodbye and stepped into the elevator. Heading for the Atrium, she prayed that she wouldn't run into anyone who wanted to make conversation. She took the Floo network out of the Ministry and into her Flat. Hurriedly dumping her papers onto her dining table, she Accio-ed a bag from under her sink and rushed to her cupboard to sweep the entire contents of her large healing supply into it.

_Oh Merlin, what am I about to do?_

Steeling her resolve, she took a deep breath and Apparated back to the forsaken warehouse where Draco Malfoy was dying.

…

Somehow the entire day had passed by and the sky was now starting to darken. Hermione stalked around the perimeter to make sure nothing had changed since the raid had left. Confirming it was safe, she headed inside into the warehouse and stepped through the wall again. This time, she added charms and cast wards behind her to make sure what she was doing was completely secret.

Everything was the same, and Malfoy had not moved an inch.

_What if he's dead?_

Thankfully, he wasn't, as the faint pulse was still there, but it was a lot more muted than it had been when she first found him. Pausing for a moment to decide what to do, she first cleaned up all the blood surrounding him with a flick of her wand.

"Scourgify!"

Then, she crouched down, thinking about what healing spells to work, purposefully avoiding thinking about the blackness. She knew quite a few advanced healing spells, as she _was_ the brightest witch of her age, but he would still need a few potions to fully heal, and to treat the evil blackness of his wounds as well.

_Spells first._

"Ferula," she incanted, and his arm was bound and splinted.

Groaning as she pushed him onto his side, she was relieved to see that his back was alright. Pushing him back, she cleaned his wound with a simple "Tergeo!" and magicked the bandages she had brought to bind around his injured midsection. She was afraid to use _Vulnera Sanentur, _which Snape had used to heal Malfoy from Harry's dangerous Sectumsempra spell in her sixth year, because she didn't want to close up that blackness inside of his body.

_Could it be poison?_

Hermione still wasn't sure what exactly the blackness was, all she knew that it was Dark. But she had a bigger problem now.

_Where do I keep him? My flat? Here? Or somewhere else?_

Although she wasn't so sure about it, she had to turn him in to the Ministry eventually, and she couldn't leave him to escape once he was healed. Additionally, whoever gave him his wounds couldn't find him either. Especially if it was another dangerous Death Eater like Hermione suspected. There _were_ safe houses left over from the war, but most were routinely checked for escaped hostages or prisoners that the loose Death Eaters liked to take and torture, so those wouldn't work.

_Here then. For now._

It wasn't the easiest solution, but she knew she could make it work. She had enough free time on her hands to check up on him once in a while. Plus, he wouldn't be a threat to her or anyone else if she kept him locked up here.

Finished with her healing and cleaning spells over the rest of his body, she Levitated him onto the now clean bed in the corner. All he needed now were some potions. Hopefully she had one to get rid of the Dark stain. His breathing and pulse were a lot more normal now, so she propped his head up and fed him blood-replenishing and Wiggenweld potions, followed by a antidote to common poisons and a Draught for Dreamless Sleep once she realized he would start to stir soon. To keep him here and keep herself safe, she pulled out his wand from his robes and pocketed it. She knew it also wouldn't hurt to look for clues as to why he was here and what he had been doing for the past few years. Searching the contents of the room, and Scourgifying as she went, Hermione looked under the bed, and in all the stacks of papers and books lying haphazardly in a corner and on a desk, but all to no avail. She couldn't find anything of importance.

But, Malfoy had been second in their class at Hogwarts, and she knew he must have hidden his things so that no one could find them but him.

_If it were me, where would I hide things? I'd just cast a Disillusionment charm. Hmmm…_

"Revelio!" She kept on repeating as she fired the spell around the room.

As if a blanket was being pulled back, a single drawer appeared on the front of the desk. Satisfied, she opened it. Inside were newspaper clippings, some empty vials, a letter, and a photograph. She gathered them all up and tucked them in the inside pocket of the bag she had brought all of her potions there with.

It was late night now and Hermione knew Malfoy wouldn't be waking up for a while.

_I'll stop by after work. _

She was definitely scared to see him, but she wanted to know his story and maybe, just maybe, fix him.

With that final thought, she cast strong wards and other enchantments to make sure that Malfoy couldn't get out. However, she didn't want to have to undo and redo her spells every time so she altered her Anti-Apparition ward so that only she could enter and leave.

He's my prisoner now, Hermione thought grimly.

With that final thought, she Apparated back to her flat and collapsed on her bed. It had been quite a day, but she still wanted to be able to examine the items she had collected. However she was just too exhausted to think straight right now. Instead, she changed into her pajamas and read a good fiction novel until she slowly fell into a fitful sleep, her mind still ringing with one name.

Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy.


	3. 03 occursum

The sky was tinted a soft, but eerie green. The thick forest cast foreign and twisting shadows onto the soft dirt ground of the clearing, the spindly reaching up into space with branches that looked like dark claws. The minimal light filtered through the canopy, illuminating his silver-blond hair. His breath was ragged, as if he was running. Crashing interrupted the silent clearing and terror overtook him as he blindly pushed forward into the trees with one arm, panting hard. He had to getaway. Whoever, no, whatever was following him, it would lead to death. Draco's heart was beating so fast he couldn't hear anything but his frenetic heartbeat pounding in his head, and he couldn't feel anything but the painful throbbing of his mangled left arm. Any hope he had left of escape evaporated as he realized the woodland he was venturing into was even thicker than the clearing he had run from. He had wandered deeper into the forest instead out of it, and those footsteps still sounded behind him. He couldn't stop, so he kept surging forward, lifting his wand with his good arm to slash through branches obstructing his way. His progress was slowing down, and pure terror overwhelmed him as he saw the dark figure was next to him instead of behind. A blinding light flashed, and searing pain followed. He stumbled and gladly succumbed to the fatal darkness that clouded his vision before he even hit the ground.

Draco shot up in the dark, ragged sobs tearing through his body as the dream faded, releasing the hold it had on him. That same fear remained, but gradually wore off, and his breaths slowed again. Finally, he was awake enough to take his surroundings into account. He barely remembered Apparating here, only the distinct memory of setting up wards as his blood spilled out of him came to mind, and he winced as he remembered the pain.

_Where is it?_

He felt barely anything, just rested and slightly numb. Realizing that his robes were no longer on his body, he felt around his body to find his wand, only to find a bandaged torso instead of a wand.

"Accio wand!"

Panic kicked in and Draco stumbled out of the bed to turn on the small light on the ceiling. The first thing he noticed was how clean it was. Where his blood had been spreading when he collapsed was now a spotless floor, and the bloody sheets he had tried to use to staunch the wound of his arm looked brand new. Looking at his splinted arm and bandages all over his body, it hit him that someone had found him here, and they hadn't killed him.

_Couldn't have been a Death Eater, or some Ministry fool._

He would have been long gone otherwise. This person had taken his wand and healed him. He surveyed the room, noting the empty potion vials sitting neatly in a corner, and most especially noticed a drawer on his desk that most definitely shouldn't have visible. He scrambled to open it, sliding it open to find only dust left behind. Whoever had saved him, they now had an advantage over him. Even though he knew it was useless, he tried Apparating out, but it was impossible. The wards he had cast to keep people out had been altered to keep him in. He was trapped, and with each passing minute, he felt his apprehension grow, dreading the arrival of his captor and savior.

* * *

Hermione had woken up later than usual, but she still had plenty of time to make it the Ministry. She was Hermione Granger. She was never late. She got ready quickly, then made coffee and heated a Danish up with a wave of her wand so she could eat when she arrived instead of before she set out. She hadn't forgotten about Malfoy, but she was too jittery to deal with him early in the morning. He would probably be sleeping way into the day, so she had decided to go to work and finish her day before seeing him later in the evening.

Strolling into her office at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, right on time, she relaxed and languidly ate breakfast while going through the day's reports. She had a lot to catch up on, as she had taken pretty much the whole day off yesterday to help Harry and take care of Malfoy. As she worked she secretly entertained the thought of telling Harry about this absurd situation she found herself in, but she couldn't bring herself to even seriously consider it. Harry would probably kill Malfoy on the spot.

_I'll turn him in eventually._

She shook her head and tried to focus. Malfoy was only a temporary distraction, and she couldn't let anything get in the way of her job. The hours passed by until finally, it was her lunch break. She was planning on skipping it and grabbing something from the Ministry canteen later, but that idea came to an end when Harry peeked his head into her office.

"Hey 'Mione, want to go out for lunch?" He asked.

Even though they worked in different departments, the Golden Trio always managed to make time to meet up for lunch a couple of times a week. However, life had been busier and busier for Hermione and she had found herself declining to meet more than she would have liked.

"Is _he_ going to be there?"

"...Yes," Harry hesitatingly stated. "But he knows not to bother you... and I feel like our friendship is falling apart because of you two. Can you meet today and make temporary peace? Do it for me?"

The last thing Hermione wanted to do was see Ron after all this time, but for Harry, she would do anything.

"Fine," she relented, but not without a glare. "But only because I love you."

* * *

Hermione and Ron had been the darling couple of the Wizarding World ever since they had gotten together after the Battle of Hogwarts. No one was surprised, it seemed that they were just meant to be, that they had always loved each other and one day it just slid into place and become a part of the fabric of their everyday lives.

Hermione was the first to sense the change in Ronald Weasley. In their Hogwarts days, Harry had always been the focus of all Wizarding news, and Ron had always been bitter about it because he wanted to be considered equal to Harry. He had finally come to terms with Harry being the beloved and forever hero of the Wizarding World, but now that he himself was a war hero, and one of the bravest, according to the Daily Prophet, the fame had gone to his head. He became prideful and obsessed with his reputation, holding himself as if he was better than everyone, and every decision he made was in an effort to make himself look better in the eyes of the public.

However, on the inside, he still struggled with recovering mentally from the war. He, Harry, and Hermione had seen and done things beyond anything they had been exposed to at Hogwarts. They had experienced the darkest of magic, and it left a stain in their hearts and in their minds. Ron took it particularly hard, receding into himself all the time and refusing to talk to anyone. When he seemed to be ok, he would lash out, cursing the world for the mental burden he carried.

And the unfortunate thing was that Hermione herself was dealing with similar problems. They both needed to heal, but Hermione could never focus on herself because she constantly had to make sure that she was helping Ron. She thought he was improving after a few months, but his inferiority complex returned; he had started comparing himself to her, jealous of her career taking off. He started calling her names: boring, bossy, unattractive, and while they were said jokingly, they hit a chord deep within Hermione. They used to be such great friends, but once they had started dating their connection and understanding of each other had deteriorated severely.

So she told him that. She loved Ron with all her heart and it broke her to leave him, but she knew she had to. She just needed a break to focus on herself and career, and she knew that taking a break with Ron could let them both heal. Everyone said they were meant to be, but that didn't mean they were at that exact moment. They had talked about it at length, and while Ron was initially reluctant and defensive, he understood that she needed space. She had tearfully hugged him goodbye, and she still clung to the words he had whispered in her ear as he held her tight one last time: the future still had hope for them.

She had stayed with Harry and Ginny for some time, but Harry, in his normal clueless manner, had a hard time accepting that Ron had done anything wrong and that his two best friends were not together anymore. He pleaded with her to fix things, but once Hermione Granger made a decision, there was nothing anyone could do to change her mind of steel.

Hermione took the life change as the new future she had always dreamed about. She bought herself a beautiful, large flat in London not far from Harry's and close to a quaint Muggle bookstore that had immediately become her favorite. Ron had been unbelievably messy and she finally had a place that she could keep neat and clean the way she liked. He had been annoyed by her constant reading habit so she had devoted an entire wall to bookshelves that Ron had refused to allow before. He had loved his Gryffindor colors, gaudy red and gold, on every surface of their old flat, so she had spent her time designing a simple, minimal white-centered space that made her feel at peace. She was finally enjoying every moment of life the way she should have been before and she found her mental trauma healing, slowly and softly.

* * *

As she and Harry Apparated to their chosen lunch locale, Hermione couldn't help but feel nervous. She and Ron had not spoken in months. What would he act like?

_Cruel? Sad? Or nervous like me?_

They hadn't officially broken up, it was more like a break so they could figure themselves out individually and then have their happily ever after. She secretly hoped that he would have fixed himself in the five months it had been since she left, but she was sensible and knew that in reality, it would take much longer, and she was willing to wait as long as needed to be with the man she loved. But that was another problem. The longer they spent apart, the more Hermione was starting to realize that maybe she was missing him as her friend, and not as her boyfriend.

As they appeared in the restaurant, Hermione mentally prepared herself to remain calm and composed. All that almost went out the door when she looked out the mirror to see Wizarding paparazzi crowding around the windows. Even Harry seemed unnerved. Someone in the restaurant had tipped them off, but it was quite normal for the Trio.

"It's been a while since all three of us met up, they must have seen the reservation I made. I suppose it's fine, Hermione; it's better if they don't think anything is wrong," Harry chuckled hesitantly.

Hermione flashed him a grin. "The last thing we want is another Rita-Skeeter-esque gossip article."

With that, they both laughed and went to be seated.

Hermione had just opened her menu to see what the weekly specials were when Ron arrived. For a moment, they just stared at each other. He looked good, his hair had been grown out and a faint stubble shadowed his jaw. She wondered if he missed her. She wondered if he still loved her. And she wondered if the lines between friendship and love had been blurred to the point where she couldn't tell if they loved each other as friends, or more. Harry shattered her dangerous thoughts and the moment by clearing his throat and Ron sat down.

"Good to know we still get good paparazzi coverage," he said awkwardly.

Harry took one look at Hermione and her nervousness and took control of the conversation, bringing up the one topic Hermione would have no interest in talking about, Quidditch.

As the boys droned on about how unfair the refereeing was at the last Chudley Cannons match, Hermione sipped her water and was sent back to their old days at Hogwarts. Filled with nostalgia for the best time of her life, she smiled at her two best friends. She wondered how Neville was doing teaching Herbology at Hogwarts. Those days felt so much farther than they actually were. How far they had come in almost two years.

All of that came crashing to the ground when they moved on to talking about Harry and Ginny's wedding. The event was in a few months, and Ron and Hermione had been helping the happy couple with their stressful wedding planning. Hermione had even helped Harry out with his proposal. He had taken Ginny to Platform 9¾ , where he got down on one knee and proclaimed his love for her in front of bustling parents and Hogwarts students ready to start the school year. They had met each other for the very first time right at that spot.

Harry and Ginny had already finalized their guest list. They both were tired of the excessive public attention, so they were holding a small, intimate event with just their closest friends and family. Everyone was allowed a plus-one, and that hadn't been a problem for Ron and Hermione until now. Harry didn't realize he was heading into dangerous territory and went on talking about what kind of cake they were going to get. Hermione shifted in her seat and exchanged an awkward glance with Ron.

"Ginny really liked this pink champagne one, but then there's this passionfruit vanilla one that Molly suggested and we have to keep that in mind, and oh, I personally wouldn't mind anything as long as it has good frosting. Honeydukes makes a fantastic coconut cream…"

"I'm taking Lavender as my plus-one," Ron interrupted suddenly.

Harry just stared at Ron, mouth gaping. Seconds passed.

"_Brown_? Lavender _Brown_?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"Why on earth?" Harry went on. "We don't know her!" There was an awkward pause.

"We're seeing each other," Ron mumbled, refusing to meet Hermione's gaze.

It felt like her heart had stopped. They had discussed this. They were on a break. They hadn't broken up.

"For Merlin's sake, what about her?" Harry yelled, pointing at Hermione.

"We've been broken up for months now! You didn't honestly expect me to mope around who knows how long for her to decide to come back to me, did you? At least Lav actually knows what she wants!"

It was a brutal, public tearing of Hermione's heart. She could feel her throat tighten and thicken. She refused to cry, and instead took a few deep breaths.

_Calm down. I'm the one who initiated this mess in the first place. I left him. It was MY decision. I am happy without him. He can have his own life if he wants. I can't boss him around anymore._

But for once her logic failed her and she couldn't stop the tears from dripping down her face.

_How could he? How could he do this to me?_

Harry tried to salvage the afternoon by steering the conversation in a completely different direction. For a few minutes, Hermione stayed silent, warring with herself over what to do. Part of her wanted to be done with him once and for all. Part of her wanted to cry herself a river. Part of her wanted to beg him to come back to her, because how could she lose such an important part of her life just like that?

But Hermione was a Gryffindor for a reason. She was unapologetically brave, and she knew she could be happy on her own. She stood suddenly; the chair she had been sitting on moments before interrupting Ron and Harry's discussion about Auroring with a dragging screech as she pushed it out of her way. They both stared up at her.

"I may not know what I want according to you, Ronald, but in reality, I do," she glanced at Harry apologetically. "And what I want right now is to have nothing to do with you and the raisin of a brain you seem to have. Good day."

And with that, she Apparated out. She would reimburse Harry for the bill later. For now, she was free, and at that moment she promised herself she would enjoy that freedom at all costs.

* * *

**Ta da! I finally wrote Chapter 3. The first two chapters I wrote a long time ago, and until recently I didn't have to willpower to publish any of this story. So, I forced myself to publish the first two chapters, and from there I used the fact that I published my work to force myself to keep writing and in the end, to come out with this! I really hope you are enjoying so far, I am doing my best to try not to make this story too dramatic and cliche, so any thoughts and suggestions on this story help me out a ton!**

**Thank you so much for reading!**  
**Until next chapter,**

**-Anushka**


	4. 04 auxilium

Hermione Apparated straight into her bedroom. Lunch had been an absolute mess, as she knew it would be. At this point, her life was feeling like a soap opera with drama lurking behind every corner. But now wasn't the time to let thoughts of what happened bog her down. If she started thinking about it, she would just descend into a spiral of self-hate. And she had better things to do than worry about what the Weasel thought about her.

_Malfoy._

He had been on the back burner of the stove that was her mind, but now she brought him, and everything she knew about him, to the very front of her mind. He was a puzzle to solve, and she needed every clue. It scared her how badly she wanted to find out what had happened to him. It was just a gut feeling she knew she had to trust. She decided that it was time to go check on him, as he was most likely awake and in need of some pain potions.

_And food, _Hermione thought as she quickly Transfigured a piece of bread into a buttery croissant with strawberry jam. She slid it into a bag with an Undetectable Extension Charm, along with whatever healing potions she could find in her supply. She didn't have much, just some liquid dittany, murtlap essence, another antidote to common poisons, and the classic potion of dreamless sleep that almost every former war member had stocked plentifully in their cabinets. She had needed the potion less recently, but she knew others, especially Harry, who were still reliant on it to keep the bad memories at bay for the night. But they all knew that those memories never left, they would be back the next morning.

Hermione could feel her nerves growing, so she didn't hesitate or stall. If she started thinking, she'd never end up going. No thinking, just doing. She Apparated into the dusty hallway she had been creeping down just yesterday. Ever vigilant, Hermione checked the wards to make sure they had held up and rested her hand upon the door handle, not applying any pressure so that it would remain closed.

_I have the upper hand here, seeing me will be a surprise for him. I have a wand, he doesn't_.

She refused to feel nervous or any sense of dread. She turned the handle and opened the door.

* * *

Draco was feeling delirious and thought he was hallucinating when he heard a small cracking sound and a soft rustle. However, he had always been a man of vigilance, so he had a sense that it was time. He was going to meet his captor. This confrontation would lead to either life or death. The only people who would have left him alone instead of turning him into the Ministry or Death Eaters were people who would use him as an advantage. He had a pretty good feeling that he was being held here by some Ministry loser seeking to curry some favor before having him arrested or a neutral party interested in monetary compensation in exchange for his safe return to the Death Eaters. He couldn't trust this person, so he scrambled for something to defend himself with. Unfortunately, Malfoy had always depended on having a wand for protection, so this hideout had absolutely nothing that even resembled a weapon.

_Stupid._

He shuffled over to a dusty corner and picked out a heavy, sturdy book, holding it above his head, ready to strike who walked through the door. He would steal their wand, break the wards, and get the hell out of there.

He was definitely not prepared for who opened him.

"Granger?" He yelled. He lowered the book and gaped at her.

"Hello, Malfoy," Hermione replied coolly.

Draco was infuriated. Of all people, he would be held hostage by Mudblood Supreme. He hated her and her goody-two-shoes demeanor. And he also hated her friends, Saint Potter and the bloody Weasel.

"What are you doing here, Mudblood?" He spat.

"Saving you, it seems. Put the book down if you'd like to survive the night."

"Still all bloody stuck up, you are. Let me out this instant."

"I see you are still just entitled, ferret. If it wasn't for me, you'd be dead or worse, turned into the Ministry."

"Worse? Those Ministry prats don't scare me. Being here with you does, I'll be contaminated with something. I'm breathing the same air as a Mudblood!"

Hermione closed the door behind her, waved her wand as if she expected him to attack her, and set her bag down.

"Trust me, being here is the least of your worries. Did you really think that if you were caught, you'd just be thrown in Azkaban? Most of the people I know would riot if you weren't given the Dementor's Kiss. And whoever gave you that nasty wound aimed to hurt. So we might both hate it, but you're stuck here. With me."

Draco was silent, but he still glared at her. All of a sudden, he was exhausted. A problem was waiting for him everywhere he turned. He slowly sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands.

_Bloody Granger of all people!_

He heard rustling and then her footsteps as she approached. He looked up to see that she had a croissant and a small tin of jam in her hands.

"Look, I'm not sure why I'm doing this, but I'm here to help you. You don't have to like it, but cooperating with me is your best option right now," she stated. Draco ignored her words but grabbed the food out of her hands. He was famished. She was staring at him, but he kept pretending she wasn't there. Maybe she'd leave if she got annoyed enough. He could only hope.

* * *

Hermione knew that Malfoy would be a pain, but she didn't realize how much he was to handle until now. Their brief verbal sparring had left her frustrated and exhausted. She didn't know if she could handle him, but she would try as hard as she could.

He was ripping into the croissant, so she turned back towards her bag and knelt down to get out the potions he'd need.

"You shouldn't turn your back on me, Mudblood. I'm still a Death Eater, remember?" Malfoy said darkly.

Picking out what she needed and standing, she turned back towards him.

"Stop goading me, it isn't working."

"Seems to me it is," he said while sending her a sharp grin.

Now it was Hermione's turn to ignore him. He had finished the croissant, so she hesitantly stepped forward and reached out to him. He watched her warily as she gently rested one palm against his forward. He didn't move a centimeter; he was utterly frozen in place.

"It's as I thought, you're running a high fever. Let me see the wound."

He stared at her in disbelief as she unbound his bandages with a wave of her wand. She avoided looking at him, just inspected the wound with her clinical gaze. The Dark stain that had been infecting his flesh seemed to have receded quite a bit, so she redid the same spells and placed the potions in his hands.

"You're doing good, you just need some rest," Hermione said as she magically redid his bindings with fresh bandages.

He still just silently stared at her with a frown. She moved to pack up. She was almost ready to go when he spoke.

"Why are you doing this?" He spoke softly and looked at her as if she were a puzzle he couldn't figure out. "I hate you. You hate me. I'm a Death Eater. I can't believe Potter is letting you save me."

"_Potter_ doesn't know anything about you or me being here," she said sarcastically. He raised his eyebrows.

"You're avoiding my question."

She stared at him for a moment in concentration, thinking. She cocked her head and shook her head.

"I'm not really sure yet. Something's just telling me you're worth taking a chance on."

Malfoy stared at the floor, seemingly considering her words. Then he looked back up at her and said, "Well, that's good, but next time can I some cutlery with my food? I'm not a savage, unlike you, Mudblood."

She rolled her eyes and walked out of the door. The name-calling didn't bother her as much anymore. Something had shifted in the way he said it. As if he'd left behind actually meaning what he said in their childhood. She had to be careful with him. He was different, and different was dangerous with a Death Eater.

* * *

Hermione Apparated straight into her flat. She was exhausted from healing and dealing with Malfoy. She couldn't imagine what his mother had been through to raise him. But Hermione didn't even know if Narcissa Malfoy bothered to raise her son. Yes, she loved him, that was evident, but with the amount of money she had, there was no need for her to busy herself with child-rearing.

Still musing on Narcissa, Hermione dumped her empty bag onto her flat's breakfast table and collapsed into the chair. It really had been a long day. The lunch drama and Malfoy in one day? Hermione was surprised she had managed. She rubbed her face and stood up to go change out of her robes and into something more comfortable. As she was rummaging for sweatpants in her dresser, she caught a glimpse of objects littering the opposite desk in the dresser's attached mirror. She turned around, not remembering making a mess, and realized that these were the items she had found when she had found Draco injured. These were her "clues" in a sense.

Quickly changing, Hermione took a seat at the desk, fully prepared to examine the treasures in front of her. These were pieces to Malfoy's puzzle that she wanted to solve more than anything in the world. None of the items caught her attention immediately, they were all ordinary objects. A moving photograph caught Hermione's eye first. It was Malfoy and his mother, Narcissa. They were smiling and laughing. Draco looked younger, and his eyes showed his carefree happiness. She hadn't seen that today. He looked closed off and sullen. She got the sense that laughter and smiles were rare with Malfoy, but she didn't know why she came to that conclusion. The picture was torn at the side as if someone else had been in the frame and then had been torn out. Hermione had no idea who else would have joined the mother and her son in such a peaceful setting. She set the photograph down and moved on to the next item. There were two dusty vials with cork stoppers. Hermione opened the first one, only to be disappointed as there was nothing inside. She tried a few revealing spells and still, nothing. It seemed like it could have been used to store potions, but other than that, Hermione had no ideas. However, the second did contain something: an intricate platinum and diamond ring with an M inscribed on the well-worn inside edge. The ring was beautiful, and Hermione could tell it was expensive. It was meticulously crafted, and Hermione even suspected it might have been goblin-made with the quality of the craftsmanship the ring showed. She guessed that it was potentially Narcissa's ring, and Malfoy kept it to remember her. They had obviously been close, the opposite of Hermione's previous musings.

The two objects left were crumpled pieces of paper. One was larger than the other, and Hermione smoothed it down to see that it was a clipping from the Daily Prophet. It was a list of known and wanted Death Eaters that the Ministry had released for publication. Hermione saw all three of the Malfoy names, and also noticed that the clipping was dated from almost ten months ago.

_He carried this with him then. How did he have time to deposit and conceal this injured the way he was?_

This clue seemed the most intriguing to Hermione. She resolved to ask more questions when she saw Malfoy again. She knew he'd be secretive, but she had to try to get something out of him. She flattened down the next crumpled paper, only to see a note scrawled in messy, faded cursive. The letter read: I know you weren't expecting to hear from me, but I am proud of the decision you made. It was the right one. I write this at the risk of compromising your safety, but I must tell you that she knows. Stay safe.

The note was not signed, and the handwriting was so hard to read that Hermione couldn't make out if a male or female had written the letter. Now she had even more questions. Who had sent this letter? A friend, a lover? And who was 'she'? Was this the person that had given Malfoy his injuries? If not, then who did? And why?

Hermione knew she had too many questions. She'd never find out all the answers with the way she and Malfoy couldn't get along. She flicked the lights off and got into bed. Unlike last night, thoughts of Malfoy did not accompany her into sleep. Instead, a feeling of foreboding and a flicker of unease cradled her as she fell into a deep sleep.


End file.
